


The Roommate

by tronxiemottel



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: ???? i seriously don't know how to classify this bs, Angst, F/F, Gen, Light Angst, Multi, Other, Recreational Drug Use, Smoking, lol gio and pearl are super duper minor characters, probably drinking eventually too, they use a little bit of drugs, trixie and katya are both cis women
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-01 19:21:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15150095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tronxiemottel/pseuds/tronxiemottel
Summary: Trixie is dealing with debilitating Empty Nest Syndrome and seeks out companionship in the form of a roommate. Katya needs somewhere to grow. The two meet thanks to the good graces of the internets and Trixie finds she has a lot to learn about the world beyond Small Town, Wisconsin.





	1. A Gang of Bears

**Author's Note:**

> hello ! this is an experiment with a dialogue-heavy fic, which is causing short chapter syndrome. enjoy !!  
> here's a fic playlist i smashed together if you're interested: https://open.spotify.com/user/crunchytit/playlist/5XaTQdiKgqvcOkFCRQDj2m?si=mo7eEtB_Qfm-gTgzKVzJ8A

Trixie sat by the phone, knuckles tucked neatly under her chin as she squinted at the spidery crack in the drywall on the opposite side of the living room. Her glasses slid down the bridge over her nose and she huffed impatiently, uncrossing her legs and giving the telephone an unhappy scowl. Finally, she snatched it from its cradle and dialed the familiar number before pressing it to her ear and scratching her elbow with her opposite hand as she waited for the voice on the other end.

“Oh, hi, sweetie! I was starting to worry you wouldn’t pick up, ” Trixie chirped, affectionate scolding creeping into her voice. Her face lit up and she leaned forward in the easy chair, resting her elbows on her knees.

“I’m wonderful, baby. Missing you always. How was your day?

“I know, I know, of course. Well, the weather’s been lovely here. You really oughta come visit sometime soon.

“Oh, I don’t think so. Not at all!

“Well, how are women of my age supposed to spend their time?

“A hobby? I’ve got my book club. And I-

“Lonely? No, honey, I’ve got you!

“Well, sure, but it’s because-

“A roommate?”

Trixie went quiet, tilting her head thoughtfully to the side. She hummed, sitting back in her chair and crossing her right leg over her left.

“I suppose...But I’m not sure I’d like a stranger living in my house.

“Really? Online? Oh, dear, but you know how I am with the internets…

“You’re sweet! Well, if you’re willing to go to all that trouble I can’t really say no, now can I?

“Oh, shush. Now, I want it to be another lady. My age. I don’t want any strange men lurking around.”

Trixie laughed, shaking her head.

“Absolutely not, you goose! A lady. And...no tattoos. Is there a section for that? No? Goodness. I’ll just have to cross my fingers, then,”

She tutted, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward.

“And you’re sure this is safe? Is there anywhere you can check ‘No murderers, please?’ Are you sure? Pinky promise? Oh, I do not!

“Is that all? They’ll just call me? Gracious, it almost seems too simple. Well, I suppose I haven’t got much to lose. Thank you, sweetie.

“Now, before you hang up have you found yourself a g-”

Trixie sighed as the other line went dead. She tucked the phone back into its cradle and slouched back into the easy chair, massaging the furrow between her brows. A roommate. Like she was back in college. This could be fun.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

“....And here’s the kitchen! I cleared out a couple shelves for you up here,” Trixie rambled as she opened the cabinets to show her guest, suddenly self conscious of the peeling pink paint that coated them. She should have done more to straighten up before the other woman arrived. “Do you want help carrying your stuff in?”

Her guest, a wiry woman about her age clad in cargo pants and a paint-splattered t-shirt, had already helped herself to a glass of water and was perched on the kitchen island, legs swinging. She shook her head. “Nah. I haven’t got much. Sold most of it before I left.”

“Oh! From Boston? It must be so exciting to live in a city like that.”

The woman smiled and swept the length of her blond hair, frizzy and tangled at the ends, over her shoulder. “Kinda. Dangerous, though. My old neighborhood had an awful gang problem.”

Trixie went white. “Gangs? How scary!”

“Yeah. Anything to be scared of in Wisconsin?”

“Not really….Corn, maybe? The occasional bad weather. Bears.”

“Bears?!” the woman yelped, sliding from her perch to put her empty water glass in the sink. “I should head back to Boston right now.”

“Oh, but you’ve only just arrived K-” Trixie stumbled over the woman’s name.

“Katya. It’s easy.”

“Kaaaat-yuh.” Trixie repeated, over enunciating. “How exotic.”

Katya snorted, resting her hands on her hips as she scanned the kitchen. “Anyway. I’d take gangs over bears any day.”

“What about a gang of bears?” prodded Trixie, grinning gleefully. “Why’d you move here anyway? Doesn’t make much sense.”

“I dunno...I guess I just needed room to grow, y’know? Face my fear of bears.”

Trixie laughed at that, taking Katya’s glass from the sink and putting it into the dishwasher. “I can understand that. I’ve lived around here my whole life and even Wisconsin with all its plains and sky has started to feel small.”

“Must be time to broaden your horizons, then,” murmured Katya, her head tilted curiously as she turned her attention to the aproned woman in front of her. “Maybe I can help.”


	2. Home Depot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> delve into some lesbian stereotypes with me !

“You sure you just wanna leave your stuff out on the porch like that?” Trixie called, pouring a healthy amount of cream into her coffee. 

“Sure. It’s just old clothes and besides....” Katya’s voice grew louder as she made her way downstairs and into the kitchen, exhaling smoke as she reached the linoleum, “...the bears aren’t gonna steal anything.”

Trixie’s mouth fell open and she wrinkled her nose, mug halfway to her lips. She set down her coffee and tightened her pink robe before she marched over to the swinging patio door and opened it, gesturing outside. “You’ll have to smoke out there. I can’t...It’s so…” she sputtered, caught between her disgust and polite instinct.

Katya threw her hands up defensively and bustled outside, extinguishing her cigarette in a flower pot. She brushed ash from her fingers onto the flannel of her pajama pants and slunk back inside. “I’m sorry. I quit. I’m quitting.”

Trixie, still flustered, folded her arms across her chest. “Yes. Good. Nasty habit. Can I get you some coffee?”

Katya offered a sheepish smile and nodded, squeezing past the taller woman to get to the refrigerator. She pulled out a carton of almond milk and uncapped it, accepting the mug of coffee Trixie handed her before pouring some in. She neglected to add sugar but simply adopted her previous perch on the kitchen island to sip her coffee.

Trixie watched her warily, her own mug abandoned as she patted at the pink rollers in her hair. After a beat of silence she ventured “So...Anything planned for today?”

“Mm...I thought I might head into town. Go exploring. Have you got a greenhouse anywhere nearby?”

“A greenhouse...I’m not sure. I know there’s a Home Depot not too far from here that might have what you need.”

“I’ll see what I can find. What are you gonna do all day?”

Trixie shrugged, downing the rest of her coffee. “I’m not sure! My book club isn’t until four so I’ll have to occupy myself until then. There might be a bit of cleaning to do upstairs...and I’ll plan dinner or something. Sort out my hair, too. Are you alright with vegetarian?”

“Oh, sure, no problem...Do you wanna come into town with me?”

“Oh, no, I can’t. My son’s s’posed to call me back today and I wanna be here when he does. I don’t get to talk to him enough.”

“Where does your son live?”

“Boston! Like you, kind of. He pays far too much for rent...That and his school is too expensive. I keep telling him he could just get a house in Wisconsin for all the money he spends on rent.”

“What’s he studying?” queried Katya, slipping from her perch on the counter to put her empty mug into the dishwasher.

“Design. Clothing design. For women. Lots of people think he’s a homosexual...Lots of his friends are. Homosexuals, I mean. Not that I have a problem with that, it’s just…”

“I’m gay.”

Trixie’s eyes widened and she waved her hands anxiously as if that would diffuse the tension that bowled into the kitchen. “Oh! Oh, I had no idea! I mean, you’re from Boston. Lots of people from Boston are, and the pants and the Home Depot and the...Oh no, I’m so sorry!”

Katya threw her head back and laughed, earning a look of alarm from Trixie. “It’s okay. I don’t mind. I just thought you should know.”

Trixie unwound a blonde curl from the rollers in her hair and twisted it around her finger. “I kissed a girl in college once. Once.”

“That’s not the same thing.” She grabbed Trixie’s mug and tucked it into the dishwasher beside her own. “Tell you what: I’ll head into town. You have your little reading group-”

“Book club.”

“Book club. And when I get home I’ll make us both dinner and you can tell your son all about it when he calls. Sound good?”

“Sounds good. Are you sure you don’t want me to save you a seat at my book club?”

“Aren’t those for old people?”

“We are old people.”

Katya tilted her head at that and gave Trixie another curious look. She shut the dishwasher and wiped her hands on a loose towel before exiting the kitchen and padding upstairs, leaving Trixie to smooth her robe and peer at her expression in the stainless steel of the kitchen sink.


	3. A Macaroni and Cheese Vegetarian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> katya's gardening habit is ambiguous and concerning but she is an okay cook .

Katya swept into the kitchen, a pair of potted plants tucked under her arms and dirt smudged down the front of her overalls. She glanced over her shoulder before setting them atop the refrigerator, inches from the fluorescent light that lit the kitchen. She hummed, unwinding her hair from the knot she tied it into earlier that day and grabbing a cigarette from the front pocket of her overalls.

Just as she was fumbling for her lighter, Trixie called out from the living room. “Katya? Is that you?”

Katya stuffed the cigarette back into its box and pocketed her lighter, smoothing her hair just as Trixie joined her in the kitchen. Trixie’s hair was free from its rollers, pulled back from her face by a pink headband that matched the lipstick she swept on while Katya was away.

Katya cleared her throat, dazed momentarily, before wiping her grubby hands on the pants of her overalls. “Uh...yeah. Just got back. Home Depot.”

“Home Depot!” Trixie cheered, clasping her hands delightedly. Her nail polish matched her lipstick, Katya noted. “I see you’re a gardener?”

“Oh. Yeah, those,” Katya nodded dismissively toward the plants atop the refrigerator. “Alright if I keep them up there? The climate’s kind of ideal.”

“Oh, that’s no trouble,” Trixie chirped, examining the leaves before turning back to face the other woman who shifted uneasily. “My son forgot to call me today.”

“That’s a shame. I’m sure he’s just busy. How was your book club?” Katya asked as she moved to wash her hands in the kitchen sink.

I was Trixie’s turn to adopt a perch atop the kitchen counter as she watched Katya scrub dirt from under her nails. “Oh! Wonderful, really. Kimberly brought these delightful lemon bars. I’ll have to get the recipe. And we talked about our children and our houses and the weather.”

“And books?”

“Yes, books, of course. That too.”

Katya smiled as she dried her hands on a dish towel, grabbing a pan from underneath the sink. “What else do you do? Besides your book club, I mean.”

Trixie frowned thoughtfully, pushing her headband back into place. “Well, I’m a mother.”

“I know that.”

“And I’m retired.”

“From what?”

“My marriage.”

Katya let out a shout of laughter, hair falling into her face and nearly catching alight as she turned on the stove.

“He was retired long before I was. From the marriage,” Trixie explained curtly. “He liked his model-sized planes and trains and cars better than he liked normal-sized me.” She huffed, distracted, and picked at the polish on her left thumbnail. “What do you do?”

Katya retrieved olive oil from the top cupboard above the sink and poured a drizzle into the pan before collecting an assortment of vegetables to chop. “I’m a slam poet.”

Trixie squealed, hopping down onto the linoleum to hand Katya a cutting board so as to protect her nice countertops. Katya accepted it with a smile and resumed her yam-dicing on the cutting board. “A slam poet! Maybe I should write a poem about my husband and you can perform it!.”

Katya chuckled, scraping them yam into the pan before moving on to the shallots and peppers. “I’m retired from slam poetry now but you’re welcome to give it a shot.”

Trixie hummed thoughtfully, using a spatula to push the yam in circles around the pan. “Oh, I don’t know. It would probably be a bad poem anyway.”

“Probably. But there’s a great liberty in being bad.”

Trixie gave the woman beside her a curious smile as Katya nudged past her to scrape the rest of the vegetables into the pan. “Grab me the tortillas, will you?” she prodded, reaching for a fistful of chili powder and the salt shaker.

Trixie obliged, setting the tortillas beside the pan before grabbing a pair of plates and two forks. “It’s nice having company around here again.”

“It’s nice having all this space.”

Trixie set the plates at separate ends of her small dining room table, laying the forks on top of paper napkins and arranging the collection of plastic flowers in the center to her satisfaction. “Do you have any children, Katya?”

Katya went still, a lump catching in her throat as her eyes fixed on a crack in the grout of the countertop. A heartbeat later, she shook herself free, finding she had ground far too much pepper into the pan. “Are you okay with spice?”

Trixie frowned, taken aback. “Um, just a little. I’m more of a macaroni and cheese vegetarian. Now-”

Katya interrupted her with a sizzling pan of vegetables, sweeping into the dining room and setting the pan in the center of the table. She posed like a gymnast and gave a toothy smile, declaring “Let’s eat!” before Trixie could get a word in edgewise.

Trixie decided to let the issue go for the moment, collecting the abandoned tortillas before sitting down opposite her roommate. She had to peer around the arrangement of faux foliage to get a look at the other woman’s expression. Katya was already helping herself to a tortilla and the fajita filling and Trixie kept her mouth shut as the pair tucked into dinner.


	4. Medicinal Herbs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> here's that recreational drug use you were all waiting for !! plus it gets a little Soft

“Dinner was delicious!” Trixie praised, pushing back her chair and collecting her and Katya’s empty plates. “I think you might’ve gone a little heavy on the pepper, though.”

Katya chuckled, popping a stray piece of yam into her mouth. “A little, yeah. I should have picked up some salsa on my way home too.”

“You should have mentioned that!” Trixie cried, tying her pink apron around her waist before she set about loading their dishes into the dishwasher. “I make a mean pee-ko dee gay-oh!”

“How exotic,” snorted Katya, getting up from her place at the table and returning the empty pan to the kitchen. Trixie took it from her and set it in the sink.

“Yes! I’m trying to learn Ess-pan-yol.”

“It sounds like it’s going well.”

“Not quite, but I’m working on it,” Trixie chattered, putting the spatula and pan into the dishwasher alongside the plates. “I can’t let Kimberly get ahead in the culture department! You know she’s from Idaho? Can you i-

Katya scooped up the pile of vegetable remnants from the counter and scanned the kitchen, interrupting Trixie with “Compost?”

Trixie frowned. “Compost?”

Katya sighed and nudged past the taller woman, bumping hips as she retrieved an unused garbage bag from beneath the sink and shook it open before scraping the yam skins and shallot roots inside. “Compost.”

“Oh! Compost.” Trixie beamed and took the garbage bag from Katya, stashing it back underneath the sink. “For your plants.”

Katya nodded, and affectionate smile breezing across her face as she returned the chili powder to its home in the cupboard.  
“What else are you here for? I’m sure there’s plants in Boston too, anyway. Do you know anyone in Wisconsin?”

“I know you.”

It was Trixie’s turn to smile as she dropped a soap packet into the dishwasher and shut the door, turning it on. “I know. But why did you move here?”

Katya exhaled through her teeth, shrugging noncommittally. “No reason. Thought I might raise some bees.”

“Bees?” Trixie yelped.

“-Or a goat or a pig,” Katya placated with a laugh. “I just needed some space. Like I said.”

Trixie nodded, still unsatisfied. “You can still write poetry out here.”

“Maybe I’ll try that.” Katya nudged past Trixie again, hand grazing the small of the other woman’s back as she retrieved a rag from the sink. Without another word, she set about wiping off the counters, tossing the rag back in the sink when she was done.

The women finished cleaning the kitchen in silence before Trixie retreated to the living room to try calling her son again. Katya glanced over her shoulder, hip resting against the edge of the pristine countertop, before pulling a dimebag from the back pocket of her overalls. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Trixie, glasses halfway down the bridge of her nose and attention fixed on the keypad of the telephone, shuffled into the kitchen.

Katya, joint halfway to her lips, froze.

Trixie, unbothered, lifted her head and frowned, squinting at Katya.

“I thought I asked you to smoke those outside.”

“It’s not-” Katya sputtered, her ears flushing strawberry red.

“The patio’s perfectly fine. Here-” Katya caught her arm as Trixie waltzed past her.

“It’s not tobacco.”

“Then what is it?” Trixie asked innocently, slipping off her glasses and tucking them into her apron.

“Herbs.”

“Drugs!” Trixie squeaked, the color draining from her face.

“No no no no no.” Katya shook her head insistently, setting the joint down on the countertop. “Medicinal herbs. It’s only drugs when a capitalist economy gets involved.”

Katya’s philosophy did little to calm a flustered Trixie who pulled her arm from Katya’s grip and began punching numbers into the telephone.

Katya caught her hand and wrested the phone gently from her grip, setting it firmly on the counter. She squeezed Trixie’s manicured fingers and offered her a smile. “Would you like to try some?”

Trixie’s eyes widened as Katya’s blue-green gaze soothed her. She answered without hesitation: “Yes.”

Katya laughed and released her hand, retrieving the joint from the counter and her lighter from the pocket of her overalls. “Have you ever-”

“No. Never.”

“Okay. What about a cigarette?”

“Once. In college. Once.”

Katya smiled and held the joint to Trixie’s lips, flicking on her lighter. “Then it’s like that. Inhale deep and hold it.”

Trixie nodded and took the joint between her lips, letting Katya light it for her and inhaling deeply. She held the smoke in her lungs for a moment before exhaling with a cough. “Will this give me cancer?”

“No.”

“Will I hallucinate?”

“No. It’ll just relax you.”

“What if I don’t relax?”  
Katya chuckled, taking her own drag from the joint. “You will. It just takes a second.”

Trixie nodded, wiping her sweaty palms on her apron. She took the joint back from Katya, lighting it herself this time, and took another drag for good measure.

The women sat in silence, positioning themselves side by side on the kitchen island as twilight settled into the Wisconsin air. They passed the joint back and forth like college students until Trixie, smoke on her lips and eyes half-lidded, interrupted.

“Are my eyelids s’posed to vibrate?”

“That happens.”

Trixie gave a short giggle and leaned sideways, her head settling on Katya’s shoulder. The older woman smiled and tugged affectionately on a blonde curl.

“It’s a shame your husband retired,” she mused.

“What do you mean by that?” Trixie murmured, letting her eyes slide shut.

“I mean that you’re pretty.”

Trixie shifted beside her, clearing her throat. “In a real way or in a lesbian way?”

Katya frowned privately, letting Trixie’s curl fall back into place. “I’m not sure what the difference is.”

“Well, if a man called me pretty that would mean he liked me. And if a straight woman called me pretty that would mean she was jealous. But because you’re a lesbian, I’m not sure what to think.”

Katya tilted her head, eyes fixing on the peeling paint of the pink kitchen cabinets as she let silence float between them for several heartbeats before she broke it. “We should put on some music.”

“I haven’t got any music.”

“Then we’ll pretend.”

Katya slid off the counter until her feet hit the linoleum. Trixie opened her eyes, a smile quirking the corner of her mouth as she watched Katya swaying in the silent kitchen. Katya waltzed over and offered Trixie her hand which the other woman took graciously, joining her on their makeshift dance floor.

Katya held both of Trixie's hands, keeping her at a safe distance as they spun in lazy circles to the sound of crickets until the night air grew too heavy on their eyes and they both drifted off to bed.


	5. Only The Worst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trixie and katya grow more comfortable with eachother. katya is intent on her gardening and trixie is still oblivious. also katya sleeps shirtless because it seems correct.

Trixie woke to drool dried to her cheek and soaked into her pillowcase. She groaned, lifting herself onto her elbows to inspect the damage and was pleasantly surprised to find herself headache-free. For some reason, she had expected a hangover.

Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she detangled herself from her pink duvet and wandered into the bathroom, grumbling as her fingers came away from her eyes smeared with mascara. She hadn’t fallen asleep with makeup on since her divorce and was reasonably annoyed with herself.

Trixie tugged a makeup wipe from the packet she kept beside the sink and smudged it across her face, watching foundation and eyeliner and mascara smear away to reveal the features underneath. She sighed and stared at herself bare-faced in the mirror. 

There were permanent bags under her eyes that no amount of concealer could completely hide and the corners of her mouth sagged in a way they hadn’t in her twenties. But her eyes were still bright and blue and she really didn’t mind the crows-feet that had developed at their corners. Plus, her skin was softer than it had ever been, even if she found it more sensitive than when she was young, and she hadn’t seen a pimple in ages.

Trixie smiled at herself, giving herself an affirmative nod before she tucked her hair into an alligator clip and set about washing her face. 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Katya woke to a clattering of pans and Trixie humming in the kitchen. She rolled out of bed, pulling on a ratty t-shirt to cover her exposed chest as she shuffled off to the bathroom and directly into the shower.

When she joined Trixie in the kitchen, hair still damp and drying into curls that stuck to her neck, she was greeted with a smile and a plate of eggs and toast on the table.

“Good morning! How did you sleep? I haven’t slept that well in ages.”

Katya chuckled as she helped herself to a mug of coffee, adding her usual almond milk before sitting down to eat.

“Drugs’ll do that to you. I slept pretty well.”

“Medicinal herbs,” Trixie corrected with a grin, joining Katya at the table. “I see now why all the kids do them.”

“Most of the kids,” Katya replied through a mouthful of egg. “Not all. Did you eat?”

“Already fixed myself some cinnamon toast!” Trixie chirped, smoothing her apron. Her hair was still clipped away from her face but she had put on makeup for the day. Katya hadn’t realized that anyone could still make blue eyeshadow look good.

“Well, alright. Did you son ever call you back?”

“Not yet,” Trixie fretted, growing restless and shoving her chair away from the table to stand. “I hope nothing’s happened to him.”

“He’s fine. He’s a kid. Kids do stuff and forget to call their mothers.”

“Like drugs?”

“Yes, like drugs,” Katya replied with a reassuring smile. “But he’s fine, I promise. Give him another call today and you two can catch up.”

Trixie gave her a sideways glance as she returned the eggs to the refrigerator but nodded eventually. “Yes. Fine. You’re right.”

Satisfied, Katya piled the remainder of her eggs on a piece of toast and shoved the entire thing into her mouth before downing the rest of her coffee.

“In a hurry?” Trixie marveled as Katya collected her dishes and loaded them haphazardly into the dishwasher.

Katya shrugged, wiping crumbs from her mouth with the collar of her shirt. She finished chewing before replying “Gotta see a man about some bees.”

“Bees!” Trixie yelped for the second time.

“Kidding! I’m gonna get dressed and then see if I can sort out a sprinkler system for these babies,” she patted the potted plants atop the refrigerator affectionately. “They’re picky.”

“I’d nearly forgotten they were up there. What kind of p-”

Katya had already bounded up the stairs like an excitable antelope before Trixie could finish her question. She huffed and untied her apron, frowning at her leafy new roommates.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Katya got dressed in record time, skittering back into the kitchen in an atrocious pair of brown loafers and a denim frock that Trixie figured she could have only obtained at the estate sale for an eccentric, aging hoarder who lived somewhere in Boston, maybe in Katya’s old neighborhood. But Katya, hair wound into twin buns on the top of her head, somehow made it work. 

She grabbed the almond milk and drank directly from the carton, stashing it back in the refrigerator on her way out the door. “You got anything planned for today, Trixie?”

Trixie, bemused, just laughed. “I’ll have to fix my hair and then I thought I might try writing some poetry.”

“Make sure it’s bad!”

“Only the worst for you.”

With a chuckle, Katya gathered up her purse and keys and blew Trixie a kiss as she breezed out the door.

“Have fun!” Trixie called after her, wondering how anyone could be so enthused about a sprinkler system. And she really did hope Katya was kidding about those bees.


	6. Ah! Lesbian!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trixie calls her son again and they chat about her new roommate!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright, folks. this is a teeny tiny chapter but i had to write Something to keep myself happy so here!!! i don't hate the short chapters as much as I originally did. i think it just means this is going to end up being and Extra Long fic. thank you for the comments and kudos and support! remember to say hi on tumblr @no-nipple-mattel and check out the fic playlist I put together: https://open.spotify.com/user/crunchytit/playlist/5XaTQdiKgqvcOkFCRQDj2m?si=X5IaKka0QzObO6UFATmB9w  
> it is supremely funky. <33333

Trixie was really bad at writing poetry. 

She had sat down about an hour ago after stirring three sugar packets into a mug of coffee, feeling inspired to write but the minutes had ticked by and she found she had nothing to write about. Trixie wasn’t even sure she knew what a poem was supposed to sound like.

Exhausted after an hour of sitting perfectly still and staring at a piece of pale pink notebook paper with a cartoon cat grinning at her in the corner, she shoved her chair away from the table and stood, marching into the living room and grabbing the landline from its cradle.

She punched in the number for her son’s cellphone and collapsed in her easy chair as she waited. He picked up on the third ring and she sat forward, beaming.

“Hello, sunshine! How are you? I’ve been so worried!

“Oh, shush, it’s my job! Well, did you have fun?

“Oh, good, good. How are your friends?

“That’s wonderful! And that girl you were talking about?

“Ah! Lesbian! I have one of those too.  
“Yes, yes! My roommate! Katya! A real live lesbian from Boston! Goodness, she’s so exciting.

“Mhmm, mhmm. And she told me she used to be a poet but now she’s moved way out here to get some space.

“Yes, and she’s started a garden! In my kitchen, of all places.

“Isn’t it? She’s so interesting. And no tattoos, either!”

Trixie laughed, cupping her cheek in her palm. In her poetic flurry, she had neglected to do her hair so it sat in a haphazard knot atop her head, contained only by a pink bandanna.

“Mm, yes yes. She is. Ooh! I’m not sure. I’ll ask.

“Oh, no no no. I could never, you goose.

“Oh, I’m fantastic! Life is so exciting now. I’m having a lot of fun.

“I’m glad, baby. Now, before you go, you’ll never believe what I did last night. Never!”

Trixie giggled and lowered her voice conspiratorially, whispering into the phone. 

“I...tried....drugs. Drugs!

“Oh, no no no! They’re just herbs, really, Medicinal herbs. They’re only drugs when a capitalist economy gets involved.

“Just herbs, sweetheart! Mare-ah-wanna, you know. I bet you’ve had it, too.

“Don’t lie! I know all the kids do it. Most of the kids, at least.

“Shush! I’m still allowed to have fun, right?

“Right. I love you too. Make good choices.

“Kisses.”

Trixie blew a kiss into the phone and smiled, hanging up and returning the telephone to its cradle. She adjusted the bandanna tied around her head and plucked aimlessly at the lint that collected on the worn pink corduroy of her pinafore. Now she had something to write about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tune in Soon for some bad poetry and bad lying !!


	7. Somber Spaghetti

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> take a peek at katya's pov and enjoy a glimmer of angst on me!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like im writing some dumb soap opera and i don't hate it. here's a dose of that angst i was promising. and katya drives a subaru (is that just a northwestern sort of car or are they universally outdoorsy?) anyway! trixie's son is Officially giovanni too so we have some weird familial bs to unload and it's gonna be Tons Of Fun

Katya pulled into the driveway, the sun dipping low enough in the sky that she had to squint as the shoved open the door of her muddy Subaru and swung back around to retrieve her irrigation supplies from the back seat.

Her loafers smacked against the pavement as she jogged up the the front door, a tangle of hoses and plugs and PVC pipes clutched in her arms, and managed to jostle the lock open. She was disappointed to find the house silent, no cheery, pink ‘Hello!’ greeting her on her way in. 

Katya dumped the supplies unceremoniously on the kitchen table and pulled the pink sticky note from the plastic flower vase in the center. It was written in disgusting, loopy cursive and every ‘i’ was dotted with a little heart. 

‘Hello! Stepped out to pick up almond milk and pasta. Back soon. Spaghetti tonight!!! Kisses! -Trixie’

Katya smiled to herself and tucked the note into the pocket of her dress, wondering how anyone could be so enthused by pasta.

The house was big and empty without Trixie’s chatter to fill it and barely a minute alone in the dining room was enough for Katya to grow restless. Her footsteps echoed on the linoleum and she felt skittish as she padded into the living room, the telephone in its cradle catching her eye. She glanced once over he shoulder, feeling silly about the wave of anxiety that seized her ribcage and the tendons in her hand as she grabbed the phone, squinting at the keypad before she took a hesitant step and sunk back into the pink easy chair nearby.

The chair creaked as she sat, the cushions molded from years of wear to fit a softer, rounder body than her own, but she felt at home even as she worried her lower lip between her teeth and punched a familiar number into the phone. She clutched her elbow with her opposite hand as she held the phone to her ear, listening to it ring. The answering machine picked up and she growled, waiting for the chirpy message to run its course before she could speak.

“Pearl! It’s me. You said I couldn’t do it but I did! I’m doing it. I’m out here and I’m thriving and I proved you wrong. Suck on that! And i know you’re just standing there, listening to me talk on the machine - probably rolling your eyes too- so you can call me back if you ever want to talk to me again but you don’t have to and guess what! I don’t care. Call me back if you want. On this number, please. I’m sorry. I love you. Bye.”

Unsatisfied and finding it difficult to breathe, Katya hung up and dropped the phone back into its cradle. She clenched her teeth for one breath. Then two, scraping her fingernails over the threadbare pink of the easy chair until her feet found the carpet and her mind returned to its cradle in her skull. Slowly, so as not to rock herself free again, she stood and wandered through the living room, through the dining room, through the kitchen, and out onto the patio where she fumbled with a cigarette until she found her lips and took a slow drag, inhaling smoke and Wisconsin air.

Katya’s meditation was interrupted by a flurry of pink corduroy and grocery bags bustling through the front door, followed shortly by a singsong “Katya?”

Katya sighed an stubbed out her cigarette in the usual flowerpot, raking her fingers once through her bangs and gathering her thoughts before she pushed back through the patio door and directly into a beaming Trixie Mattel.

“Oh! Goodness, excuse me. I was just coming to check on you.”

Despite her best efforts, a smile quirked the corner Katya’s mouth. This woman was too good to her. “Thanks. I was on my way back in, anyway. Need help with the groceries?”

“Yes! Thank you,” Trixie gushed, clasping her hands. “If you you could just put them away while I get dinner started it would mean the world.”

Katya obliged and, as Trixie set a pot of water boiling on the stove, she shelved the groceries and set a container of strawberries atop the counter. 

“Aren’t those gorgeous! They were on sale and I couldn’t resist. They might a little out of season but I can fix them into a shortcake and they’ll be perfectly excellent.” Trixie chattered as she emptied a box of spaghetti noodles into the the water before grabbing a cutting board to chop mushrooms and olives.

“You’re quite the cook,” marveled Katya, sneaking a strawberry from the box and twisting off the stem.

“Not really! I tried to learn after I got married and old a few dishes really stuck. I’m good enough, though.”

“Good enough,” Katya echoed, popping the strawberry into her mouth. Just then, the telephone cut through the steam and conversation of the kitchen. Katya’s eyes widened and she moved towards the living room but Trixie, wiping her hands on the front of her dress, was faster.

“I bet it’s ‘Vanni! -Hello?”

Katya froze, holding her breath as she watched Trixie from the doorway as she answered the phone. Her brow furrowed and she frowned, giving Katya a sideways glance.

“Oh! Um, no. This is Trixie, her roommate. 

“Er, yes, she’s right-”

Katya threw her hands up and shook her head insistently, taking a step away from the living room. Trixie stuttered, juggling confusion and communication.

“Oh, sorry. Sorry, dear. She’s not...here? She’s not here. Katy- your mother, isn’t here right now. Can’t come to the phone. So sorry. Can I take a-”

Katya shook her head harder, making frantic cutting motions across her throat. Trixie got the message.

“Ah! Sorry. Call back later, dear. Goodnight!”

Katya finally exhaled as Trixie hung up and smashed the phone back into its cradle. Her expression was unreadable.

“God, sorry. Thank you. I just didn’t want to-”

“Pearl?”

Katya balled her hands into fists, willing Trixie not to ask anymore questions.

“Yes. Pearl. My daughter.”

“And you...she-”

“We’re not on the best terms at the moment,” Katya euphemized, rocking back on her heels. Trixie arched her eyebrows but stayed silent, pressing her lips into a thin line before bustling back into the kitchen to finish their somber spaghetti.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lo siento about these dumb cliffhangers. im just incapable of writing any kind of satisfying resolution until the very end so im dragging you along on this roadtrip. lotsa love !!  
> -R

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment if you like or come say hi @no-nipple-mattel on tumblr !!! kisses


End file.
